One Hundred Ways
by reciprocityfic
Summary: A series of Rick and Michonne drabbles, each one containing a different phrase that can show how much one loves someone else. Based on a Tumblr post. Both AU and canon.
1. let me drive for awhile

**Author's Note: **Hi! Once again, I know I should be writing _A Slight Return Home_, but alas, here I am.

I saw this post on Tumblr a little while ago called 'One Hundred Ways to Say 'I Love You''. It was just a list of little phrases people say to one another that lets the other know they care. Now, this is probably a crazy idea, but I have it in my mind to write a tiny Richonne drabble for each one of those phrases, some AU, some canon. Honestly, I don't know if I'll ever finish, but it can't hurt to try, right?

So, that being said, here's the first one! I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

**one: "pull over. let me drive for awhile."**

The RV is silent as they make their way to Hilltop.

Michonne sits in the passenger seat while Rick drives. The rest of everyone is in the back with...the bodies.

_The bodies._

A shudder runs through her. She still can't believe it. Can't believe what happened, can't believe what she saw, what they went through. She doesn't know if she'll ever believe it.

But that isn't her greatest worry right now. At the moment, she's most concerned about Rick.

He hasn't said a word since they left the clearing. Hasn't made eye contact with her, or anyone.

She doesn't know what happened to him, and it makes her sick to her stomach to think that Negan had him out there, _alone_, away from them, away from _her._ She was powerless to protect him, powerless to stop anything that man wanted to do to him.

And now, she doesn't know. She prays that Rick will tell her, if only to stop her mind from imagining the worst. But also so she can share in his pain. So she can help him heal.

She looks at him now. His stares ahead, mouth hanging open slightly, his long curls dirty and sweaty and matted and falling down his forehead and into his eyes. His hands are shaking, even as they grip the steering wheel so unyieldingly his knuckles are white.

He looks like he's broken. Like she could breathe on him, and pieces of him would blow away.

"Rick."

He doesn't respond, but his fingers tighten even more around the wheel.

"Rick," she says again, sitting up in her seat. When he again doesn't answer, she reaches over and places her hand on his thigh.

He flinches at her touch. Her heart shatters, even more than it already has. But, he finally speaks.

"We have to get Maggie to Hilltop, and then we have to get home."

"I know. Pull over."

He finally turns to her, and looks at her like she's grown a third head. Even in his confusion, though, his blue eyes are dull. Duller than she's ever seen them.

It scares her, but she doesn't let it show.

"We have to get Maggie to Hilltop," he repeats. "And then we have to go home."

"I know. Just pull -"

"We can't stop. We have to keep going. We have to get Maggie -"

"_I know_, Rick," she assures him firmly. "But pull over. Let me drive for awhile."

He stays quiet, and turns his eyes back towards the road. Steeling herself, she reaches out again, and places one of her hands on top of his.

This time, he doesn't flinch.

He looks at her again. His eyes are now full of tears, and one escapes from an inside corner, falling down the curve between nose and cheek.

"Pull over," she murmurs.

He takes a deep, shaky breath. She rubs her palm over the back of his hand, and she can feel his fingers relax, infinitesimally.

"Okay," he whispers.

The RV slows to a stop. They both get up to switch spots. And when they pass, he lets his side brush against hers.

* * *

**A/N: **There you have it! This takes place immediately after 7x01, obviously.

Let me know what you thought with a comment, and if you think this series is worth continuing. I'd love to hear your feedback!

'Til next time!

xoxo,  
Rebekah


	2. it reminded me of you

**Author's Note: **Hello again! Thank you for all of your kind words and praise concerning the first chapter. I hope you enjoy phrase two as well!

* * *

**two: "it reminded me of you."**

She's always awake when he comes home from runs.

She'll greet him, ask how the trip went, if everyone is safe, how he's feeling. It's their routine, now.

It pleases him.

He tries not to let it please him _too_ much. He knows she just wants to go to bed with a sound mind, to be sure that everything and everyone is alright. He knows she's not waiting up for _him_, specifically. Sometimes, though, it feels like she is, and recently there seems to be a part of him - small, but getting louder and more insistent by the day - that _wishes _she were waiting up for him, specifically.

But he pushes those intrusive thoughts away, tells himself he is making something out of nothing, and focuses on her.

This particular evening, he finds her sitting at the island in the kitchen when he arrives at their house, reading a book and drinking hot tea out of a plain, white mug. He smiles, and his fingers fiddle with an object held behind his back.

She looks up when he closes the door behind him, grins when she catches his eye. She closes her book, takes a slow sip out of her mug, as he comes over to stand on the other side of the island, across from her.

"How'd it go?" she asks lowly.

He shrugs.

"Alright. We checked out some old superstore. It was mostly picked-over, and we knew it would be since it was right on the main road. But we found a good bit of medicine in some small, side cabinet behind the pharmacy counter."

He pauses. She waits.

"The food was pretty much gone, though. Or bad."

She looks down and frowns, and he hates it. He can't help feeling like he failed her, even though he knows it's not his fault.

"We're going out again tomorrow," he assures her quickly, as if trying to make up for his shortcomings. "Aaron said there was a small town about 20 miles out that was more off the beaten path. Me and Daryl'll check it out."

She nods, but still has a frown on her face. He wants to make it go away more than anything.

Again, he turns a hidden item over in his hand, surreptitiously.

"Gotcha somethin'."

She glances up at his words, her brow furrowing. A curious glint appears in her eyes.

"What?"

"I got you somethin'," he repeats.

Before she can say anything else, he removes his hand from behind his back and sets a white mug down on the counter between them, adorned with flowers and the shiny, gold outline of a cat. She gazes at him for a moment longer, the corners of her open mouth just beginning to curl up, before reaching out and grabbing the mug. She brings it closer to her, so she can read the matching gold lettering decorating one side.

"'Sorry, I Gato Go, My Cat Needs Me,'" she reads aloud.

She's quiet, and stares at the mug, her mouth still agape.

Then, she laughs - a deep laugh that comes from her belly and makes her shoulders shake. Before he knows it, he's laughing along with her.

"You remembered?" she asks, a hint of incredulity in her tone.

He scoffs playfully.

"Of course. How could I forget your deep love for novelty mugs?"

"I just - " she begins, trying to speak through her wide smile and lingering giggles. "It was a random, passing conversation on the road, months ago. I'd just figured…"

She trails off, and a wave of self-consciousness washes over him. He wonders if she finds it strange that he remembers. If he's being honest, he makes a point to remember everything she tells him about her life before, even if it's only something as small as having a cupboard full of colorful mugs covered in cute images and clever sayings.

He has an insatiable desire to _know _her - to know not only who she is now, but who she was, as well.

"Well," he begins, hoping his slight embarrassment isn't apparent. When he thought about giving the cup to her, he'd been so calm and collected. He and Michonne were cool like that. The two of them were friends, and friends got each other stuff.

Now that he's in front of her, he feels like a blubbering mess.

"When I saw it - and it had the saying and then the cat outline on it...I guess it reminded me of you."

She looks up from the mug and peers at him.

"What do you mean?" she inquires slowly.

He hesitates, and tilts his head to the side. Now _he's _confused.

"What do I mean?"

"The cat outline? What do you mean?"

_Oh_, that. He curses inwardly, afraid that, again, he's shown his hand too plainly, that she'll be weirded out by how much he pays attention to her.

"I - I mean," he stutters, "you had that cat sculpture-thing back at the prison, and I guess I just always assumed you were a...cat person."

She doesn't answer him right away. He bows his head and stares at the floor, one hand coming up to scratch at the back of his neck awkwardly.

"You're very observant, Mr. Grimes."

He brings his eyes back towards her at the sound of her voice, and finds she's still squinting at him, but with a smile on her face.

"I'll have you know," she continues, "that I am a cat person. And I had a cat before all this, named Pepper. She was gray and fat and very moody. A princess, through and through."

She sighs, then presses her lips together and gives him a tight-lipped smile that's somewhat sad.

"I miss her. I know pets aren't very important, considering everything else we've lost, but I miss her all the same."

They're both silent for a moment, as they take a moment to remember the cat, and the everything else. Finally, she reaches out, places her hand over his.

"Thank you, Rick," she murmurs. "I...really love this."

Her eyes are soft, and he smiles back gently, before motioning to the set of cabinets behind her with his gaze.

"Maybe you can start a new cupboard full."

She grins, and squeezes his hand once before pulling back. Her touch and warmth linger on his skin.

"Yeah," she whispers. "Maybe I can."

And the next morning, when he sees her drinking her hot tea from her new mug, instead of the plain, boring one she usually uses, he can't help the smile that takes over his face.

He vows to never come home from a run empty-handed again.

* * *

**A/N: **'Gato' means 'cat' in Spanish, in case you didn't know!

The mug Rick got Michonne is a real mug that's currently available at Target. I want it really bad, as I myself collect mugs.

Also, as if we didn't already know Michonne is a cat person, her dressing Judith up like a cat in 9x14 certainly proves it :)

I hope you liked this chapter! See you all soon!

xoxo,  
Rebekah


	3. chapter three

**Author's Note:** Hi guys, I'm back! I hope you enjoy the third chapter!

* * *

**three: "no, no, it's my treat."**

Rick Grimes didn't know much about Michonne Jones.

He knew she and one of his best friends, Morgan, were cousins. (Their fathers were brothers.) He knew she lived in New York City with her mom and dad, though they traveled a lot, because her parents were photographers for National Geographic. The two of them were on a three-month assignment in Africa, so Michonne had come down to stay with Morgan and his family for the summer. She was working in Mrs. Jones' flower shop to save up some money for senior year of high school, just like he was doing at Shane's dad's construction company.

Above all, Rick knew that he liked her. A _lot_.

She was the most interesting person he'd ever met, with all her stories of living in the city, and traveling all over the globe. He was pretty sure the smartest, too - there didn't seem to be a topic that came up she didn't know something about, and she kept talking about how she wanted to go to Columbia next year and major in journalism. Similar to her parents, but not quite the same.

She was _definitely _the most beautiful person he'd ever seen in his life. He loved the depth in her dark brown eyes, and the way her cheeks rounded when she smiled.

So, yeah. He liked her. But he hadn't said anything. He doubted his feelings were reciprocated. Sure, Andrea had whispered to him one day that Michonne liked him back, and the blonde _did _seem to be the person Michonne had grown closest to the past couple of months, but still, he didn't believe her. Andrea was known for her love of gossip and rumors.

After all, what would someone like _Michonne Jones _want with someone like him? Plus, the summer was quickly coming to a close, and then she would be gone, probably to never see him again. What was the point of telling her now?

That's what had him feeling so blue as he walked around the town's annual summer carnival with his group of friends. Tonight was the last night for it - another sign that the summer was ending, along with his relationship with Michonne.

"Oooh, they have funnel cakes!"

He was broken out of his sullen reverie by a sweet, melodic voice that he immediately recognized as belonging to the girl currently occupying his thoughts. There was noise all around them - blaring music, the mechanic groans of rides running, the loudness of people's voices as they tried to talk over all the other sounds - but he could pick out her voice as clear as day, like she had a direct connection to his eardrums.

He glanced across the picnic table where their group sat, scarfing down their last round of corndogs and cheese fries, and found Michonne staring at the lit-up concession stand with wide eyes, a grin on her face.

"Got a sweet tooth, huh?" he asked.

Andrea laughed from her seat beside Michonne.

"Shut up, Grimes. If you don't know that by now, you haven't been paying attention."

"Oh, I've been paying attention," he teased, his focus still on Michonne. "I saw you scarf down ninety-five percent of that super brownie sundae at Al's the other day. Weren't you supposed to split that with Maggie?"

Andrea laughed again, and Michonne rolled her eyes playfully.

"How about _both of you _shut up," Michonne said, "and how about _I _go get myself one of those funnel cakes?"

With that, Michonne stood. But before she could get very far, Rick reached out and grabbed her forearm. She stopped suddenly, and looked down at him with curious eyes.

"What?" she inquired.

_What_ was right. He didn't know what he was doing. He knew what he _wanted _to do, but he never thought he'd actually be brave enough to do it. But he'd acted on instinct, without thinking, and now here he was. Stuck.

He looked up at Michonne, who was staring at him expectantly. He vaguely realized that all their friends' chatter had died in the background.

Fuck it, he decided. He was doing it.

_Be cool, _he thought to himself. _Be cool, be cool._

"I'll buy it for you," he told her, trying to force non-existent confidence into his voice. He let her arm go so he could reach into his back pocket and grab his wallet.

"Oh, no, Rick. It's okay. I can get it," she assured him.

Her statement almost made him lose his nerve, but he swallowed his fears and forged ahead.

"No, no, really. I insist. It's my treat."

He pulled out a few bills from his wallet and held them out to her. After a moment, she nodded and smiled softly. She took the money from his hand and started off towards the concession stand once again.

He watched for a few seconds as she walked away. When he turned back, all of his friends were silent and staring at him with the same shit-eating grin. He immediately felt himself begin to blush.

"Well, well, well, Casanova - " Shane finally started, breaking the silence, but Andrea immediately cut him off.

"Shut it, Shane," she barked, before looking at the rest of the group with urgent eyes. "Guys, I think I want to ride The Wipeout one more time before everything closes down. Who's with me?"

"Me!" Maggie immediately shouted, hopping up and pulling Glenn along with her. "Come on, babe."

"Wait, what's going on?" Glenn asked.

"Yeah," Rick agreed. "Aren't we gonna wait for Michonne?"

Maggie and Andrea looked at each other and then frowned pitifully at the two.

"Men really are so clueless," Andrea muttered, before pulling both Shane and Morgan up by the backs of their shirts.

"Hey, I know exactly what's going on!" Shane protested

"Me too, 'Drea," Morgan said, and the two boys snickered together and gave each other a low-five.

"Come on, come on," Maggie said, as she and Andrea tried to herd the group towards the rides. "She'll be back soon."

"So I'm the only one who's waiting for her?"

As soon as he asked the question, everything that was happening finally clicked in Rick's mind. He could feel his palms begin to sweat.

"_Exactly_," Andrea told him, and she smirked when she saw the understanding finally appear on his face. "Good luck."

"Don't mess this up, cowboy," Shane shouted over his shoulder as the group scurried away.

It only took another minute for Michonne to return, but that was plenty of time for Rick's anxiety to kick into high gear.

_Be cool_, he begged of himself, once again. _Be cool, be cool, be cool._

"Where is everybody?"

He was surprised, but thankful, that hearing her voice again didn't make him visibly shake. He shifted in his seat so he could see her, standing behind him. She was holding a funnel cake covered in powdered sugar in one hand, and had a perplexed look on her face.

"They, uh, went to go ride The Wipeout one more time."

"Oh," she said, frowning.

She sat down next to him instead of across from him, and put her plate down on the wooden table. She was close enough to him that their shoulders would brush together every so often, and his heart jumped every time they did.

"Thanks for waiting for me," she said.

"Of course," he replied, the corner of his mouth lifting up into a half-smile. "I mean, of course I would."

She looked up at him, but said nothing. Her expression was soft, and the multitude of bright, colorful lights from the carnival shone in her wide eyes as she stared at him.

He stared back. He couldn't help it - it was like he was in a trance. She looked _so beautiful_, and he wanted to kiss her more than he had at any other point throughout the summer.

But before he could gather up the nerve, she looked away, and laughed.

"Those guys really are idiots. They just ate about ten pounds of cheese fries combined. How much do you want to bet one of them pukes up?"

"I bet it's Shane," he said, and she guffawed. Somehow, to him, it still managed to sound like a song.

"_Of course _it's Shane," she agreed, and the two of them broke into a fit of giggles that made his own stomach hurt.

After a few moments, their laughter died down, and she wiped at her eyes as she took a steadying breath. She picked up the fork that was stuck into the funnel cake.

"I used to stay with my grandparents a lot when I was younger, you know, because I couldn't always travel with my parents. Especially during the school year. They lived in Brooklyn, and every year on the first weekend Coney Island was open, my grandmother would take me. We'd spend the whole day there, and then right before we left, we would split a giant funnel cake."

He smiled at the memory. He could picture it so clearly: little Michonne walking up and down the boardwalk, holding her grandmother's hand, tired from the day they'd had but so excited to eat their funnel cake together.

"That sounds like a lot of fun."

"It was," she confirmed.

She started to eat her treat, but he could sense that the mood had shifted a bit. She almost seemed sad now. He frowned.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," she breathed. "It's just...both of my grandparents died last year. My grandmother had a heart attack, and then my grandfather died just a few months later. They said it was just old age, but I think it was from a broken heart, honestly."

"I'm so sorry, Michonne," he murmured, bringing his hand up to rest on her shoulder. His heart broke for her.

"Thanks," she told him, giving him a sad smile. She placed her hand over his, and squeezed. "But I'm okay. I mean, I miss them, obviously. But I know they wouldn't want me to be sad about it. They'd want me to be happy."

"They would," he agreed gently.

She let her hand fall from his, and he released her shoulder, but let his fingertips trail along her back as he brought his arm down to his side. And he might have been imagining things, but he could've sworn he saw her shiver, just the tiniest bit.

She went back to work on her funnel cake, but paused after a moment. She put her fork down, and turned in her seat, so she was facing him.

"Thank you, Rick," she told him.

His brow furrowed.

"For waiting for you? I told you, of course I would."

"Not just for that. For this entire summer. I never thought I would like it down here in Georgia as much as I do. I'm having so much fun with all of you, but...especially you. I know everything is coming to an end in a couple weeks. And I'm gonna miss it here. I'm gonna miss you."

And before he could even properly process her words, she lifted her face and kissed him on the cheek. It was quick, only lasting a moment, but the warmth of it traversed his entire body, penetrating every cell.

She pulled back, and looked at him. He knew he should say something, but he was stunned. All he could do was lift his hand and trace his fingers over the spot where she had kissed him.

She misinterpreted his silence, though.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry," she said frantically, fumbling over her words. "I'm just gonna - I'm gonna…"

She trailed off, and went to move away from him, but before she could, he grabbed both of her upper arms with his hands, turned her back towards him, and kissed her square on the lips.

It took them a few moments, each of them still slightly shocked that this was happening, but eventually they both relaxed into the kiss, and melted into each other. Rick wasn't very experienced - he'd only had one girlfriend in his life, and that relationship only lasted two months - but he was sure that this was the best kiss of his entire life.

When the kiss ended, they smiled shyly at each other, neither speaking. Then they looked away in different directions, both slightly embarrassed, but excited and happy all the same.

Rick caught sight of her uneaten funnel cake.

"You wanna split it?" he asked, finally looking at her again. A brilliant smile took over her face.

"Yeah. Let's split it."

He scooted closer to her as she picked up her fork, and grabbed her free hand. She immediately laced their fingers together.

"Now, we're gonna split this. Don't go eatin' the whole thing again like you did with that brownie sundae."

She giggled uncontrollably, and he followed suit, still high on their kiss.

"I swear, Grimes, if you don't _shut up_…"

"Yeah?" he asked playfully, rotating so they were facing each other again, the funnel cake all but forgotten as she dropped her fork. "What are you gonna do about it?" he challenged.

Her gaze dropped to his lips. They were just about to lean in again, when they heard…

"Guys, you're not gonna believe this!"

They turned their heads to see Morgan rushing back towards the picnic table, the rest of their group shuffling behind him, dragging a sickly-looking Shane along with them.

Rick and Michonne scooted a bit farther away from each other, but kept holding hands. They both shared a secret look before acknowledging their friends.

"What happened?" Rick asked.

"Walsh threw up!" Glenn exclaimed.

"Yeah, it was disgusting," Maggie sneered.

Rick looked at Michonne, Michonne looked back at him, and the two burst into laughter.

* * *

**A/N:** I swear they're not all gonna be this long. I watched Adventureland the other day, which inspired the setting of this story. (Fun fact: The amusement park in Adventureland is the amusement park by my house I go to a bunch every summer!)

I'd love to know what you thought of this chapter, so leave me a comment if you want!

I hope to have the next chapter of A Slight Return Home up relatively soon.

xoxo,  
Rebekah


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